


The Best Man (or, the Wedding, before the Reception)

by estherr



Category: Reception (Omeleto short film)
Genre: F/M, I need a sequel for these two, Omeleto, Romance, Short film, YouTube, because Jessie was definitely working up her courage to approach him all night, inspired by a short film, reception, she saw her chance and she took it, some backstory for Jessie, they're adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estherr/pseuds/estherr
Summary: Did Jess really just wander up and sit down near Paul on a whim, to get away from the crowd? Really? Or did she see her chance to get to know the cute best man who gave the amazing speech, and take it?
Relationships: Paul/Jessie
Kudos: 1





	The Best Man (or, the Wedding, before the Reception)

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with this short film the first time I watched it on Youtube, and I immediately wanted to write fic filling in some of the blanks; namely, there's no WAY that Jess wasn't watching Paul all day and working up the courage to approach him at the reception. He was the best man after all, highly visible to guests, especially to an interested single woman. It's such a simple but well done film, only 20mins long, and the acting and chemistry is great. Fantastic, natural dialogue. I can't recommend it enough.

Her phone buzzed again for the fifth time in as many minutes. Jess cursed herself for not switching it from Vibrate to Silent, and kept her eyes glued in front of her, to where her supervisor was droning on to the team about the deadlines for the new project.

After the meeting, she had clients to see, and it wasn’t until she was walking to the carpark at 6pm that she had a chance to pull out her phone and see a string of messages from Karen.

_Hey so what are you doing on Saturday_

_Feel like coming to a wedding with me?_

_Brian’s work isn’t flying him back until Sunday morning now_

_I don’t want to go alone_

_Pleasepleaseplease_

Jess looked at the messages, considering. She got into her car and put on her seatbelt, then paused to tap out a reply.

_I’m just about to drive home. I might be free. How will you make it worth my while?_

The reply was waiting for her by the time she had arrived back at her apartment and tossed her keys on the counter.

_You’ve been single for forever. Weddings = lonely single guys. Please!!_

Jess snorted to herself. Sure, ok. She replied while waiting for her cold dinner leftovers to heat up in the oven.

_Ok I’ll come. There better be lots of lonely single guys or I demand a refund. When are you picking me up? Dress code?_

******************

“So, the bride is your cousin or something?” Jess asked as she and Karen picked their way over the grassy lawn to the folding chairs set up facing a mic stand, with a backdrop of flowers and decorative branches. It looked nice, she guessed, if a little flimsy.

“Boy, if a stiff breeze came along…” she muttered, only half-listening to Karen’s unexpectedly convoluted explanation of her connection with the bridal party.

“I mean, really it’s my mom who’s kept in touch with them all these years, so I guess they just thought it would be a nice gesture to ask me, because I’m the closest so, it kind of makes sense,” she finished, as they found a couple of empty chairs in the back. They weren’t late by any means, but clearly all the immediate family and close friends were all assembled, excitedly chattering and looking around in anticipation of the bride’s arrival.

Karen had already pulled out her phone, probably to text Bryan. 

Jess’ chair was wobbly. She bent down to check it, and then spent a few moments trying to shift and resettle it on a stable bit of dirt. Outdoor weddings were nice and rustic, but there was something to be said for the flat, even floors of a church building, she thought wryly.

When she looked up again, her eye was caught by the stir of a small group of young men in various stages of formal dress assembling themselves at the front of the set up.

There were five of them milling around, a couple of tall blond guys pulling on their suit jackets, a big bearded guy adjusting his collar, another tall guy fussing with his immaculately-styled brown hair, and then a fifth guy.

He wasn’t very tall.

He looked a bit short and compact, compared to the others.

His hair was very dark, almost black. A little long and floppy, framing his tanned face. He was in profile, with a distinctive bold nose, and when he laughed at something the bearded guy said, he tilted his head back, and his hair fell back from his forehead in waves.

“That sounds good, doesn’t it? Jess?”

She almost jumped at the sound of Karen’s voice. Jess blinked and turned, sat back in her chair. She realised that she had been unconsciously leaning forward a little.

“Yeah, that’s great, really great,” she agreed enthusiastically: with what, who knew. Satisfied, Karen looked back at her phone and kept tapping.

Jess looked at the group of men again. They must be the groom and the groomsmen, but which one was the groom? Her eyes roved over them, trying to look for hints. It was clearly one of those modern casual budget-friendly type of deals, where the men had been allowed some freedom in choice of wedding gear.

The two blond guys were dressed pretty much identically. The big bearded guy had a vest under his jacket. The immaculately-styled guy wasn’t wearing a tie, but neither was the fifth, not-so tall guy. The not-so tall guy with that hair and those dark, dark eyes she could see even sitting back here.

Oh wait, but now he was, he was putting on one. Jess sank back, a weird feeling in her stomach. It was a wide, light-coloured tie, nearly white. Probably, probably a nice cream or ivory to match the bride’s dress.

Appropriate, for a groom.

“Typical,” she said to herself, although she was hardly sure why. Dumb, so dumb. Of course she would pick the one who– her train of thought was abruptly derailed.

He was taking the tie off. Very carefully, over his head, without untying it. The immaculately-styled hair guy took it out of his hands with equal care, slipped it over his own head, and spent a few moments fussing and tightening it underneath his white shirt collar.

It didn’t matter, he was irrelevant, completely insignificant, Jess had already forgotten immaculate-guy existed, all that mattered was that the not-so tall guy was taking a respectable, plain black skinny tie out of his jacket pocket, and deftly knotting it around his own throat.

The only thing _that_ tie was matching was his own suit. Jess blew out a breath she didn’t even realise she’d been holding. Ok.

Ok, this was ridiculous. She knew it was ridiculous. She _knew_.

It was ridiculous, and yet the bride and bridesmaids arrived, and they looked beautiful, and music played, and a celebrant talked, and the couple was declared husband and wife, and they kissed and everyone cheered, and one of the bridesmaids tripped walking through the grass, but it was totally fine, and Jess kept looking at the not-so tall guy (the best man, she realised, when the men lined up in order for the bride’s entrance), and she kept thinking, _ridiculous_.

It was ridiculous to feel relieved that the bridesmaid he was paired to walk with was clearly the bride’s older, pregnant, married sister. It was ridiculous to feel annoyed that she and Karen hadn’t gotten seats closer to the aisle as the wedding party walked the recessional, so that she could get a closer look at those big dark eyes and those compact squared shoulders. It was ridiculous to crane her neck back for another look as she and Karen were towed away towards the reception tent and refreshments by some distant cousins who recognised Karen. It was ridiculous.

And still.

It only got worse when the wedding party returned, and the reception started, and she saw him patiently submitting to hugs and kisses from various elderly women, and his wry long-suffering smile as older men slapped his back and chortled. When she saw him at the refreshments table, not getting a drink for himself, but instead carefully pouring juice into a cup and handing it to one of the flower girls, before gently leading her by the hand back to her parents.

The worst part was when the speeches started. Jess’ heart was in her throat when the microphone was handed to him; this could make or break me, she thought facetiously, slightly hysterically. She hadn’t said a word to Karen about this. This was not something you could tell a friend, and expect them not to think you were desperate and crazy. This was something to maybe tell her mom next time they talked, just as a fun anecdote: so there was this guy, at that wedding I went to, and he was-

He stood up, not-so tall, dark and neat in his black suit, the jacket now unbuttoned. Most people would have shown nerves, shuffled nervously through some palm cards. He didn’t. It was hard to tell from this distance (she and Karen were seated on the far right with a table of co-workers and distant cousins), but he seemed relaxed and calm.

When he spoke, there was no rasp of nerves, no tremor in his voice, which was pleasantly low, and a little nasal. He sounded like a guy whose first language was deadpan, followed by wry and put-upon, dry humour bubbling just below the surface.

It was a good speech. It was so good Jess was almost angry. She downed her white wine and followed it with icy water. How dare he. The _audacity_ of him. To stand there, and look like that, and talk like that, and make witty but appropriate jokes like that, to finish with a warm tone and heartfelt smile that had the groom wiping his eyes and spontaneously rising to pull him into a bear hug, amidst raucous applause and cheers. It was _unbelievable_.

Jess got up and went to the bathroom. She needed to compose herself.

Unfortunately, when she got back to the table, Karen had disappeared, probably on the dance floor with nearly all the other guests, except for a guy who introduced himself as Gene, and gave Jess the kind of compliment she imagined some serial killers would open with. The bridal party’s table was also empty, except for one of the bridesmaids who was still working on her dessert.

Feeling disproportionately uneasy, Jess extricated herself from Gene’s clutches, and began to wander around the tent, threading her way between the tables and groups of people chatting.

I’m looking for Karen, she told herself firmly. I need to find Karen. She is my ride home. I am not looking for-

A couple standing chatting at the edge of the tent moved back to the dance floor, and she saw him.

He was just sitting on the low stone wall at the edge of the garden, apparently watching the merry-making from a safe distance. He wasn’t even looking at his phone. His tie was loosened a little, but his jacket was still on, probably due to the damp chill of the night air. His dark hair was doing that floppy thing again, a lock of it brushing against one eyebrow.

This was _ridiculous_. She knew that. You didn’t just coincidentally turn up as a plus-one to a stranger’s wedding and suddenly find- you didn’t just take one look at the best man and just _know_ that- you just didn’t. That’s not how this worked.

Except he was still sitting there. There was nobody else. He was alone, and right there. Almost like he was waiting-

Don’t overthink it, Jess told herself firmly. She took a deep breath, and stepped boldly forward.


End file.
